


constellations

by rain_at_dawn



Category: SHINee
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Suggestive Themes, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_at_dawn/pseuds/rain_at_dawn
Summary: A series of 3-sentence fic fills for various SHINee pairings.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Jonghyun, Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key, Choi Minho/Lee Jinki | Onew, Choi Minho/Lee Taemin, Kim Jonghyun/Kim Kibum | Key, Kim Jonghyun/Lee Jinki | Onew, Kim Jonghyun/Lee Taemin, Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Jinki | Onew, Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Taemin, Lee Jinki | Onew/Lee Taemin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic ratings range from Teen and Up to Mature, but I tagged the latter rating just to be on the safe side.
> 
> Hope you enjoy these very short, but hopefully sweet drabbles :)

**Ontae; domestic**

They’ve long moved past the unstable nature of everyday life in a pandemic; nowadays, it’s long, steady hours spent in the kitchen, devoted to perfecting the fine art of scrambled eggs and creamy pancake batter.

Isolation from the constant paparazzi buzz allows Jinki to take some liberties with Taemin’s demands, like letting him lick clean the spoon he’d used to stir in the cream for the eggs.

And when Taemin’s really good, Jinki lets his tongue lave over the tiniest speckle of pancake batter that dots his chin.

* * *

**Onho; domestic**

At some point, it’s easy for them to get lost in the thick of the night, limbs tangling under the covers as they both seek the other’s body heat.

It was Minho’s idea, after all, to have the air-conditioning on at full-blast; a kind of compensation for the hours of sweaty labor they’d put into moving all their stuff into the apartment, leaving them both too exhausted to do anything beyond flopping into bed together.

When Jinki has his eyes closed, the darkness feels ocean-sized, engulfing the space around them in quiet, except the steady ebb and flow of Minho’s breath, and the echo of his pulse, warm over Jinki’s skin.

* * *

**Jongyu; anonymous**

It’s weird how Jinki can always tell it’s him; Jonghyun had been sure he’d forgotten to leave his name on the note attached to the bouquet.

And it’s not like Jinki lacks for admirers; the fansites alone have filled Coex with their own floral arrangements, plus an assortment of gifts, the variety of which should give Jonghyun probable cause for shame.

“It’s okay,” Jinki teases him later, though his hand winds its way to rest on the curve of Jonghyun’s hip. “I know you love me the most.”

* * *

**Ontae; cooking**

At the very least, it’s not burnt.

“This is supposed to be the star,” Taemin points out the red splotch of ketchup settling over the runny undercooked eggs. “But it got lonely so I wanted to add more ketchup, but we ran out, so I used the rock salt instead, so now it’s the Milky Way!”

The ‘rock salt’ is actually sugar cubes, but as Jinki grimly reminds himself before taking a bite, love changes everything.

* * *

**Minkey; wedding**

Minho knows for sure that he had a speech prepared, even memorized word-for-word; he’s done speeches before, even at weddings, except not at his own wedding.

He’ll blame Kibum for this; no one had the right to look so radiant in the morning, except that this is _their_ wedding after all and Minho knows that it’s a thing to have vows prepared, which he had, but words don’t seem to stand a chance under the brightness of his husband-to-be’s loving gaze.

 _“Minho?”_ Kibum barely whispers, voice trembling with a barely repressed chuckle, _“Breathe, baby, breathe”_ and finally, Minho does.

* * *

**Jongyu; streetlights**

Jonghyun cuts a striking figure under the dim streetlights that line the street on their way to the convenience store.

Jinki tries to extract a scientific explanation for such a phenomenon; dim lighting was, in fact, more conducive to flatter the human appearance, softening the sharp faults that were clear under spotlights on stage.

But when Jonghyun turns to him, smile in bloom, half against neon store-signs, half in the blue dark, Jinki struggles to find a way that he can be wrong, about anything and everything that the smile beckons from his imagination, about the one thing that could turn out right if he only knew how.

* * *

**Onho; home**

Minho’s imagination is more virile than he gives himself credit for; today of all days, it’s all over one particular place, circling Jinki’s shoulders, sliding up from his knees and along his thighs, slipping in under his chin and down his throat as laughter bubbles from his mouth.

It won’t be long before Minho can clear Immigration after landing, before he can slip out the box containing the ring into his palm and examine it one last time before he drives home.

Home, as in a name, as in Jinki’s and everything that defined him; Minho’s thoughts settle as he prepares to take flight once again, heart already racing miles ahead.

* * *

**Jongyu; magical**

“Jonghyun?”

There’s always a cadence in which Jinki’s says his name, that makes it settle on a feeling he doesn’t fully understand, that makes it feel whole by itself, that leaves him waiting for whatever would follow it, even if it’s just the look in Jinki’s eyes that makes his skin itch for any kind of touch, even if it lasts as long as their hands clasp together after their final encore on-stage.

 _“Jonghyun,”_ Jinki breathes, and Jonghyun knows he’s under his spell.

* * *

**Minkey; lockdown**

They – as in, Kibum – decide to paint one of the walls orange on Day 34 of the lockdown, just because it’s there, and they can, and Kibum’s tired of looking at that ghastly shade of white, and it’s not like Minho has anything else to do anyway.

Kibum knows that there’s very little that falls between all or nothing for him, just as it is for Minho; the latter had turned up in his oldest clothes, scowling at Kibum’s doorway, complaining that it’s _only_ because the gym was closed and the football season temporarily halted.

They’ve got nothing to do, nothing between work or leisure, except themselves and Kibum intends to fully explore that which falls in-between them, right after he drips tangerine paint on Minho’s shirt and makes him take it off.

* * *

**Onkey; quarantine**

Kibum has an empty couch and two dogs, a fact that he uses to his advantage when getting Jinki to stay over after curfew hours kick in.

And they are very good dogs, even as they climb over Jinki’s legs and rest their heads on his belly, nuzzling his skin, presumably to get a good whiff of him; in the background, Jinki listens as Kibum goes about doing the dishes and putting away the leftovers in Tupperware donated by his mother.

Jinki listens and waits, stubbornly keeping his eyes open and the space next to him empty, and in time, he’s rewarded with Kibum’s scent – a little woody, a little citrusy – and the heat of his body as it moves in closer, entangling himself with Jinki for the night.

* * *

**Taekey; domestic**

Admittedly, the last resort to keeping his sanity intact is to keep Taemin around, bouncing around behind him in his kitchen nonetheless.

Then again, Kibum considers himself lucky for the distraction, if only to bat away Taemin’s intruding hands as they stir the pot of boiling pasta, which should be ready in time for dinner; Taemin does whine about not being allowed to do much at all, although Kibum has other ways to make it up to him.

The next time a hand tries to slide over his as he draws the ladle upwards, Kibum grabs it and tugs at it until Taemin’s arm is tight around his waist.

* * *

**Ontae; fight**

Jinki sneezes and Taemin says, “Bless you.”

It’s not out-of-character for Taemin, but it’s definitely out of place in the aftermath of the argument they’d just had; it’s barely even blown over by the time Jinki lets the sneeze escape him.

Jinki can hardly look at him, not when he can still feel Taemin’s stare, can still barely glance as Taemin walks right up and winds his arms around Jinki’s slouched shoulders, already apologizing, already forgiven.

* * *

**Ontae; modern**

It’s what all the cool kids were doing apparently; the Nintendo Switch is an extra Taemin received for his birthday and he’s here to make sure his hyung hasn’t missed out on the latest adventures in online farming. 

“No, this is _Animal Crossing_ , hyung,” Taemin lectures him as Jinki stares in confuddled bemusement at the range of clothing and decorating options. “You’re supposed to make your island all nice and pretty so that your friends will want to visit.”

Knowing Taemin, Jinki guesses that this isn’t a thinly veiled statement about his new apartment, but, like with any time spent with Taemin, he’s more than grateful for it, virtual tanukis and all.

* * *

**Taekey; car**

“I don’t know, hyung, I just don’t feel good about this…”

From any other partner, Kibum would take it as a sign to step back; from Taemin, right from that very mouth he’d kissed red and swollen, twisting itself into a non-committal smirk while he eased back into the plush leather headrest in the backseat, his hand still warm and snug around Kibum’s…

For one thing, Kibum’s already decided he’s done with all the teasing until this point; also, he’ll come up with an excuse later if Jonghyun complains that his car smells of lube.

* * *

**Onkey; dream**

It’s that look of Jinki’s that starts the fire; it’s something Kibum has never seen on him and it unsettles him in a way that sets off butterflies and hurricanes and infernos inside him, that way that disasters do.

Then it moves too fast; Jinki’s mouth is on his and Kibum feels too hot beneath his skin, and he’s about to burst when there’s tongue and when there’s teeth, and Jinki’s hands move fast under his shirt, and Kibum tries to catch up, match each kiss as it burns into him, losing his balance as the back of his knees bump into the bed –

He wakes up (“What the fuck is up with him?”, Minho asks as Jinki shrugs in confusion, while Kibum’s angry wails echo from his bedroom.)

* * *

**Ontae; passion**

In the scrapbook, right next to his ticket to Taemin’s concert is another ticket for speeding.

It had been a Sunday afternoon, light on traffic on the highway; Jinki had slept well into noon and then had had to slurp down a boiling hot bowl of ramyun before racing to his car, keying the ignition, then taking off with tires screeching.

No doubt he’d deserved the citation, but he’d made it in time for the opening VCR and to see Taemin’s eyes find his across the sea of fans; all in all, well-earned, Jinki thinks.

* * *

**Jongho; daycare**

Minho’s mother likes to remind him of that embarrassingly cute anecdote: he was five years old when she dropped him off at Lake Haven daycare and at the exact moment she was about to let go of his hand, he’d grabbed hers and yelled, “Eomma, is that a little angel?”

Jonghyun’s mother would later sheepishly admit that due to an accident involving a red sock in a hamper of white laundry, she’d had no choice but to drop him off in his sister’s blouse from the previous Christmas pageant: it was a loose, white smock with feathers painted on the pack, which covered the black shorts Jonghyun had worn underneath.

Twenty years, countless dates, one break-up, one reconciliation and one engagement later, Jonghyun still bristles at the fact that Minho called him ‘little’.

* * *

**Jongyu; lantern**

It’s a simple wish; Jinki has never set off a floating paper lantern before and Jonghyun resolves to correct this for the poor man.

It’s at a time of year where there’s nothing much to celebrate, except the changing of seasons from spring to summer; Jonghyun isn’t fond of change, particularly this one, but there’s a certain freedom in the lack of occasion, one in which they can fill for themselves.

After they light up the lantern, they walk to a field where they release it and Jonghyun asks Jinki to make a wish, because where else did they have the time, and Jinki reaches out for his hand instead, telling him it had already come true.

* * *

**Minkey; tenderness**

“You looked really nice then,” Minho murmurs as their breathing returns to normal. “The style suited you.”

That wasn’t right; the photoshoot for _Cosmopolitan_ with Taemin had been last month, too long ago to warrant Minho sidling up to him in bed, pressing his mouth to Kibum’s neck and shoulder through his pajamas (and it wasn’t like Kibum didn’t appreciate what followed either; the hours and hours of intimacy, propelled by what felt too great and ebullient to fit a simple need).

“Yeah, that’s it,” Minho disagrees as he nuzzles closer, close enough to taste the sweat on Kibum’s bare skin. “You just looked really nice.” (and then again, who was Kibum to argue with that.)

* * *

**2min; rain**

Even though it’s drizzling outside, the stars are out too.

“Do you think if we dove into the pool right now, that it would be like jumping into a sky full of stars?” Taemin asks him as they listen to the droplets patter on the window-panes. “Y’know, like that Coldplay song? I wanna do that.”

If Taemin wants to, then Minho does too; that’s why they find themselves stripped to their boxers, perched on the edge of the pool outside the villa they’d rented for the holidays, and when Minho jumps in before Taemin, they both take it in good humor, and Minho opens up his arms in the reflection of the dark sky above them, right in time for Taemin to dive right in.

* * *

**Jongyu; backstage**

There’s an aftermath to all of this; after every concert, there’s an after-ripple, an after-image of the vibrant ocean of lights that lingers in the empty stands.

It trickles into some of the little things; there’s an aftertaste of Onew on Jinki’s tongue when Jonghyun kisses him at the back of the dressing-room, behind the rack on which their costumes hang, the brightness of the stage a fading presence contained within the heat they share.

Jonghyun works his mouth open, one more, and just one more kiss to bring them back to the present which only counts when they can feel it happening, and Onew begins to recede too, until he really does find Lee Jinki, soft and steady beneath his touch; another kiss for good luck and another for the short trip back to the hotel-room they share, for the rest of the night that’s still young and the new morning that finds them curled into each other, content in the afterglow. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Onho; Jinki’s smile**

_“Are you okay?”_

It’s been a bitterly cold week, one in which Minho’s had to weather allergies on top of a jam-packed schedule; in short, nothing that he can’t handle, though judging by the tone of the text Jinki sends him as they sit across from each other at the dining table in the dorm, he’s been better and he knows that Jinki’s been through worse with the vocal polyp surgery.

“No, I’m Minho,” is the dumbest comeback he’s ever spoken aloud, but there it is, that first ray of sunshine that breaks through the gloom; for the first time in a while, Jinki’s smiling and Minho can’t give a crap about how bad anything else can get.

* * *

**Jongtae; sunflower**

“Can we get these instead?” Taemin asks and Jonghyun peers at the packet of seeds nestled in Taemin’s palm, not quite the alternative to their sensible plant shopping that he had in mind.

But he says ‘okay’ despite it, knowing that Taemin will beam at him in the way that he does, and they can google ‘how to grow sunflower in one-bedroom studio apartment’ when they get back home; Taemin’s already in deep conversation with the cashier about which soil and which planters, how much to water and when.

To his credit, Taemin takes charge of everything; he sets up the sensible clay pots on the window-sill in the kitchen, gets soil on the tiles when he pours it from the bag, and only scoffs once when Jonghyun, with his chin planted on Taemin’s shoulder, reminds him not to waste time staring at the dirt too long when there were plenty of other better-looking things around.

* * *

**Taekey; motorbikes**

Kibum is undeniably certain that he’s never known true fear until Taemin got that damn motorcycle license.

“Remember how you made me fret when you rode that bicycle – ” The rest of Kibum’s words are drowned by the roar of the engine as Taemin revs up on the side-road adjacent to his apartment, eyes bright and grin manic. “You fell and scraped your knee – ”

“It’s okay, hyung, you’re with me,” Taemin pats the hand attached to Kibum’s arm around his waist and if the intended effect is making the protective wolf in Kibum rear its head, it’s working terribly well. “And we’re wearing helmets too. Uh, you have insurance, right?”

* * *

**Minkey; roses**

On White Day, Minho anxiously paces around his bedroom, not without good reason; after all, the previous Valentine’s had been on him.

It had started at the carnival with the elusive three-foot Rilakkuma plush that was always ten points away from Minho’s grasp at the ball-toss stall, an observation which Kibum had continuously reminded him of, which had in turn spurned Minho into ordering a six foot replica of the damn bear clutching a spongy heart and sending it via courier to the location of Kibum’s drama shooting (an event which Kibum’s costars would commemorate for a whole week on SNS, much to his embarrassment). 

There’s no way that Kibum would let such a romantic gesture go unpunished and Minho knows he has to bear – heh – the brunt of it when the doorbell rings and he opens it, not expecting the pack of neighborhood kids obviously paid to spray him with streams of rose petals fired from custom toy guns; at least the accompanying note reads _‘You better believe I love you even more, jerkass’._

* * *

**Jongyu; claw crane**

Jinki blinks in astonishment: “Jigglypuff? I thought you were more of a Charmander person.”

Jonghyun’s reflection in the claw machine’s glass window is bathed soft and fluorescent blue – definitely his color, Jinki thinks – and he murmurs that there was always something appealing about round, soft and pink – also definitely his color, Jinki muses.

‘Round, soft and pink’ becomes their own inside joke, even when the claw machine runs out of Jigglypuff plushies for Jinki to play for; _it’s okay_ , Jonghyun assures him with a content little smile, because Jinki’s welcome to drop by his place anytime and help Jonghyun put together the shelf he’s had to buy so that he can proudly display the 50 other Jigglypuffs of varying sizes that Jinki put so much effort into winning for him.

* * *

**Onkey; staircase**

When the opportunity lands in Kibum’s inbox, he can’t pass up the chance to direct his very own photoshoot; for _Vogue_ no less and with his choice of models and crew.

The timing of it might be the first downside, although even if shooting does have to commence in the very early hours of a summer morning, the light is glorious right from the moment the peachy curve of the sun appears over the horizon and as the day commences, it expands into a clear sheen that pours through the windows of the eighth floor of the empty building; the second con turns out to be Kibum forgetting his packed lunch at the dorm, but that’s hardly cause for concern when there’s delivery –

Kibum hears his name called, or rather gasped loudly; staggering over to him from the staircase entrance is Lee Jinki, face an unflattering shade of red as he clutches Kibum’s cloth lunchbox, grin growing steadily broader with each step he takes towards him (Kibum can’t bring himself to tell him that the lifts were on the other side of the building).

* * *

**Taekey; shower**

The waterproof Bluetooth speaker – now playing a tropical house soundtrack – is Kibum’s, as is the shower gel, the ‘fancy’ shampoo and the pink loofah.

With so much familiarity, Taemin wonders what he’s so afraid of, not when taking showers together has been routine since their trainee days; it saves time, which one wasn’t supposed to devote to ogling their hyung’s flat toned stomach – while not as defined as Jonghyun’s or Minho’s, Kibum’s smooth skin glistens beneath the suds – and the sharp jut of their hip bone as they tilt their chest against the spray.

When Kibum does catch him staring, there’s no reprimand; no words at all, except for ‘pass the conditioner’ and ‘bath time is at 10 tonight’.

* * *

**Jongyu; licorice**

When Jonghyun’s sweet tooth needs indulging, it’s usually a short glass tumbler of gummies or two squares of chocolate that he turns to, not the bowl of licorice – that reeks of medicine – placed in the centre of the coffee table.

But Jinki reaches out for it, almost absentmindedly while reading a book, and bites into a shiny black twig of the stuff; like with any little thing concerning Jinki’s tastes, it intrigues Jonghyun, fascinates him enough to reach into the bowl too and gingerly nibble at the end of a licorice stick, letting the flavor settle over his tongue and pressing it into the roof of his mouth (the flavor is strong and does not soothe his senses the way Jinki’s presence does, and it lingers uncomfortably on his breath).

The next day, Jinki offers him a new open pack of gummies, almost apologetically: “You have a face like paper, it was almost funny watching you eat yesterday, until you stopped smiling.”

* * *

**Jongyu; jealousy**

The hotel booked for SM’s workshop has a fantastic view of a distant neighboring mountain from the room he shares with Jonghyun; Jinki takes this as a plus, considering how the rest of the day had gone.

Jonghyun is sweet and loving and popular and completely unaware of his own pull over the noonas, hyungs and dongsaengs alike, and it’s become something of an occupational hazard for Jinki to have to endure the sight of his boyfriend’s shoulders being touched, his upper arms being squeezed and his name tossed around with as much affection as a favorite pet’s.

In their room, there’s at least no threat of a human breach at 11 in the evening, when Jonghyun is showered and undressed and warm under the covers, beckoning to Jinki with a smile: “I’m all yours now.”

* * *

**Jongtae; massage**

Thirteen hours of uninterrupted shoots and schedules later, Taemin feels a painful twinge at the back of his neck, which doesn’t subside when he finally gets to lay his head down on a pillow at the dorm.

Of course Jonghyun has to fuss like he always does; in another life, Taemin easily imagines him as one of those fretful mothers he’d grown used to seeing around him as he’d grown up, except that he doesn’t recall his own mother’s level of expertise in getting cricks out of his neck, especially not with the skill that Jonghyun’s hands possess.

It’s close to midnight and Taemin’s too wrung out on exhaustion to do anything more than mutter ‘thanks’ when Jonghyun lifts the blanket over his aching shoulders and sprays the primrose-scented spray over his bed to make up for not having time to launder the sheets; Taemin will make it up to him properly in the morning, that’s for sure.

* * *

**Jongyu; breathtaking**

“Kibummie, I don’t know what to do now, I mean, I know it’s my fault for daydreaming while walking down the street, but how was I to predict that that van would rush past over that puddle, and, and, and this is the shirt Jinki gave me, and my hair’s a mess and there’s mud on my face, and, and – ”

Kibum doesn’t bat an eyelid over his crossword when Jinki arrives at the exact moment in the middle of Jonghyun’s latest needless meltdown, radiating joy and sunshine as he grasps Jonghyun around the shoulders and delightedly proclaims: “Jonghyunnie! You look amazing! Your hair’s a mess! There’s mud on your face! And you’re wearing my shirt!” 

“Do either of you know a word for ‘hopeless’?” Kibum asks, pencil poised.

* * *

**Jongkey; abroad**

Jonghyun knows three things: it’s been roughly an hour since they left the city, they’d checked in at a counter and, judging by the announcements on air safety, they were now on a plane.

Kibum takes off his blindfold and Jonghyun finds that he’s proven right on all counts: the screen embedded into the seat in front of him tells him that they will soon be enroute to Tokyo; next to him, there’s a sharp intake of breath from Kibum before he says, “You know when you went to Japan alone on _One Fine Day_? I’ve… sorta wanted to do that for a long time… with you.”

Kibum’s probably gonna chastise him later for kissing him in the second row of a Business class flight but Jonghyun can hardly care less; he’s waited forever for this.

* * *

**Jongtae; camp**

There are things that should make Jonghyun happy about being outdoors for a change, except that all those things are concentrated in the tent next to his instead of inside here with him.

He’s trying to get as comfortable as he can, twisting this way and that on his bedroll when the entrance to his tent unzips open, and before he can raise the alarm for an errant bear or serial killer, he gets a lapful of an agitated Taemin instead: “Hyung, there’s a bug in my tent, no, I don’t know what kind of bug, but it has _wings_ and it’s weird and gross and creepy and it won’t go away – ”

“Okay, Taeminnie, okay,” Jonghyun murmurs in a consoling voice as he pats Taemin’s head and makes room for him, secretly giving thanks to the Heavens above for this one thing they’d gotten right today. “You can sleep next to hyung tonight.”

* * *

**Taekey; Instagram**

Taemin wakes up to three messages in the morning: one is a text from his manager requesting him to call him ‘IMMEDIATELY’, the next is a concerned DM from Jongin, and lastly – the most concerning of all – is a series of cry-laughing stickers from Wonshik on Kakao.

He gets answers the quickest way he knows how: the fansites have had a field day from last night when Instagram user lm_____ltm left a series of drunk comments on bumkeyk’s posts, the substance of which was succinctly conveyed in multiple drooling face and splashing water emojis; despite a frantic deleting spree to scrub Kibum’s comment section clean, Taemin already knows that screenshots are forever and the dread in his chest builds up as he tries to dial his hyung’s number to apologize.

Which makes Kibum showing up at his door instead all the more surprising; he’s armed with carrier bags full of steaming takeaway and instructions to ‘not panic because we’re going to eat well and take a photo to post next, maybe even a video on Stories too’ (they do just that and the caption ends up being ‘love song to the haters <3’).

* * *

**Onjongho; bother**

The pillows scattered around the living-room remind Jinki of clouds at a certain time of day; the only reason they’d all ended up here was because his bed could only fit two people.

“Jinkiii…” His name streams out in a whine from Jonghyun’s pursed lips as the latter rolls onto his side and flings his arm across Jinki’s bare chest; on Jinki’s other side, Minho snores lightly, their ankles hooked together in the tangle of sheets. “Don’t tell me you have to go out now, there’s so much stuff I had planned…”

All in all, it had been a good night for all three of them; but someone has to get the paper and groceries, not to mention the condoms they were running short of, so Jinki just shrugs off Jonghyun’s arm and warns him not to wear out Minho too much while he’s gone.

* * *

**Jongyu; anesthesia**

Before they get the anesthesia going, Jonghyun remembers the joke Jinki had cracked earlier in the morning (“When’s the best time to visit the dentist? Tooth hurty.”) and can’t help smiling to himself because it sounded so much better in English, each foreign syllable wrapped around Jinki’s laughter.

Once the darkness lifts and Jonghyun gradually wakes up, the excruciating pain of a root canal dampened by a cloud of painkillers in his system, Jinki and his grin are right there to embrace him, and get him ready to go home after discharge; above everything else, Jonghyun feels for the warmth through Jinki’s sweater, the silver lining of any bad day at work or at the dorm.

“I wanna tell you a joke, but I only remember the punchline,” He mumbles as they wait in traffic; Jinki turns to him from the driver’s seat with a knowing expression, replying “Tooth hurty?”, and Jonghyun dissolves into giggles, brimming with the knowledge that no one else could complete him this way.

* * *

**Ontae; cake**

Taemin takes the easy route and places an order for a birthday cake from a bakery he remembers Jinki said he’d liked (he’d learnt his lesson from his last attempt at baking; his kitchen counters still weren’t quite the same afterwards).

He’s barely had time to say ‘hello’ to the part-timer at the counter where he picks up the cake when his phone chimes with an irate voice message from Kibum: Taemin had better get his ass on the way to Jinki’s surprise party which was supposed to start in… twelve minutes.

Taemin drives like he’s fleeing a comet and, later, dashes through the lobby and elevator of Kibum’s apartment block like he’s already on fire; he’s made it this far with the cake still intact in its box, until suddenly, there’s a wild – albeit, slightly puzzled – Jinki right in front of Kibum’s door and Taemin can’t bring himself to skid to a halt right in time to prevent the collision (though at least, as Jinki cheekily licks the icing off his chin later, he does mention that Taemin tastes better than any cake).

* * *

**Onho; shopping**

Under the sheets is the mattress they’d both gone out to select and at the head of the bed itself are the pillows cased in home-made covers from each of their mothers.

Jinki has only ever inherited furniture from his parents, grandparents and occasional helpful cousin; the time spent perusing various stores with Minho is the only he’s willingly spent on actually buying a complete new set of armchairs, sofa and matching coffee-tables to place on either side, and Minho even gets them a deal on a chic teakwood bar unit, complete with four matching, spindly-legged barstools (which Jinki always eyes warily before summoning the nerve to take a seat).

But it’s really the mattress they’ve invested the most time and effort into: it had to be the perfect size for two, taking into account Minho’s height and tendency to end up splayed in random awkward positions in the morning, usually centered around Jinki’s sleeping form; now that it’s finally in place, they can both agree, with matching grins, that it’s high time they tested it themselves.

* * *

**Onkey; sulking**

Jinki really doesn’t see the problem when Kibum moans about the hair dye packet advertising a rich shade of amber, only for it to come out ‘blood orange’ after being washed out; Jinki stares and stares at Kibum’s scowling reflection in the bathroom mirror and really doesn’t see the beginning of this apparent ‘bad hair day’.

Still, it’s enough of a disaster that Kibum turns down his offer of a nice, relaxing drive in favor of sulking on the couch in the living room while watching old drama reruns; Jinki knows better than to try too hard to appease him, but can’t bring himself not to cajole Kibum with a mug of hot chocolate and Instagram puppy videos.

Kibum’s frown deepens when Jinki then offers him a whole orange – as in an _entire_ orange, so that Kibum knows he’s serious – and tersely asks if he’s making fun of his hair, to which Jinki replies: “No, I just think oranges are really neat and I love them anyway.” (and despite his best efforts at keeping the corners of his mouth determinedly fixed downwards, Kibum can’t deny that that is the most fucking cute thing he’s heard today).


	3. Chapter 3

**Jongtae; marriage proposal**

“Mayday, we have an emergency,” Jonghyun announces as he swoops down on Taemin backstage, safe within the privacy of the dressing-room, ensconcing him in a hug. “My sources tell me that astonishingly high levels of awesome were detected in Seoul tonight, right in this very concert venue.”

He knows that Taemin hopes that the flush staining his cheeks is somewhat invisible and the tone of his voice is far from sincere when he deems Jonghyun ‘cheesy as always, hyung’; Jonghyun knows that Taemin will listen to him still, taking each and every word of his to heart as he comes down from the high of performing, when the ring is pulled out and thrust right in front of him.

“Makes sense to put a ring on it, you know, before things get too out of control,” Jonghyun speaks clearly enough for only both of them to hear; Taemin’s eyes glisten and Jonghyun figures that, of course, the sole time he’s ever brought him to tears has to be right in this moment, and nothing else could reach the same level of perfect as of right now.

* * *

**Jongtae; jealousy**

It’s one of those days when Taemin is more sensitive to his imagination than what he considers usual; then it bleeds into the time of night when he’s still awake and staring at Jonghyun’s empty bed, missing him with an intensity that catches him off-guard.

Taemin wonders how strange he can consider it all to be: that he can still be up and yearning for something easily within his grasp, yet far enough to account for the suspicious knot in his chest that tightens when the door to the dorm springs open and there’s Jonghyun with his arm around a girl in a hoodie, whether it’s enough to warrant his relief at how it loosens when he recognizes Sodam noona.

He wonders if it’s enough to justify that softness of Jonghyun’s touch when his hand reaches to brush over his hair when they’re alone together – “You shouldn’t have stayed up so late, Taeminnie. You know I’ll always make my way back.” – and if it’s too much to be comforted by the shadowy smile in the dark, as it shines across from his bed, blowing him a mischievous kiss from across the gap in-between their beds.

* * *

**Jongho; vacation**

Nothing really matters during the holidays, until the phone lights up with a notification from ‘Mango’; it’s a term of endearment Jonghyun keeps to himself, unlike Minho who hasn’t yet converted to the concept of discretion in a relationship.

Jonghyun is ‘My precious Jonghyunnie hyung’ saved on Minho’s contacts, that much he knows, though he guesses that the fact that it’s saved under ‘Preferred Contacts’ is little more than a harmless mistake; after all, he can’t quite get at what Minho gains from these random phone-calls to let him know that he’s eaten well, that it looks like it might rain in Incheon during Chuseok, and how did Jonghyun hyung’s day go, by the way?

Because if Minho misses him the way that Jonghyun misses him, he knows that he’s already in too deep and as soon as the next notification pops up, Jonghyun already has his finger poised to dial the very same number that’s been on his mind all weekend.

* * *

**Onkey; cigarette**

Jinki has counted on this never happening, that he could be subtle enough to get away with this one act of mental self-preservation, and if he were ever caught, he’d offer the excuse of ‘stress relief’ as a truce sign; he just hadn’t counted on Kibum stumbling upon the pack of Marlboros in his jacket pocket, hadn’t wanted it to play out like this at all.

The look in Kibum’s eyes tells Jinki that he’s known for a while; as to how long is anyone’s guess, but Jinki knows that this will hang in-between them alone, just over himself and Kibum as they each try to go about their shared days, and when Kibum turns away from him, telling Jinki to let him know if he needs more gum when he goes out to get the groceries, Jinki makes a split-second decision.

Before they step out for their first schedule the next morning, Jinki throws out his stash of cigarettes with the rest of the trash.

* * *

**Jongyu; rice**

He has no business stepping into the role of dorm mother – not when Kibum’s been around for years – but as Jinki listlessly flops over to his side in bed after the third wake-up call, Jonghyun thinks he might as well get into filling those shoes and tying those apron strings.

The first order of business for today is to fix up a decent meal for Jinki to help the flu medicine go down easier; with his own slippers on and Kibum’s apron in place, Jonghyun hums one of the songs his mother used to sing when she went about cooking for him and sister when either of them fell sick (and now that he thinks of it, it must have been a gospel song; how odd, and very characteristic, of her to inadvertently infuse some semblance of the divine into dealing with something as mundane as a common cold).

But then again, as he watches the slow smile spread wide across Jinki’s face when he brings in the tray – which displays a full glass of orange juice, one small bowl containing two boiled eggs, a big steaming bowl of soup and an even bigger bowl of rice – Jonghyun doesn’t feel up to singing as much as he wants to burst into a full chorus of Hallelujahs.

* * *

**Ontae; grocery shopping**

It’s just down to Taemin’s luck that when he does get the chance to go out alone with Jinki – to the supermarket, but the point still stands – he ends up losing him somewhere between the fresh produce and cleaning supplies aisles.

He thinks of calling out Jinki’s name to get his attention, then immediately dismisses it; they are both fully grown adults and if Taemin can’t find Jinki now, he’ll probably run into him in the check-out line, and this little issue would be brushed off later, except that a voice blaring loud and clear over an intercom announces: _“Requesting Lee Taemin to please report to the Lost & Found counter, right next to the children’s creche, Lee Jinki is waiting to pick you up…”_

If Taemin were five years old with a pop-gun in hand, he would’ve had no problem aiming it at Jinki’s shit-eating grin; on the way home, he settles for pouting in the passenger seat of Jinki’s car, even as the latter pinches his cheek, cracks a series of terrible puns in an attempt to get him to smile, and then tries to bribe him with string cheese (the last one works).

* * *

**Taekey; moon**

There’s only one person who Kibum can guess would be up at this time of night, still not content with the amount of hours spent on perfecting a specific part of their choreography, and now wants to get said discontent off their mind with a list of horror movies they want to watch with him alone for some reason; Kibum rolls his eyes and lets Taemin in.

Taemin’s tastes run wild and eclectic in his selection of titles: there’s the latest installment in a popular mainstream slasher franchise, an indie Japanese release that sits inside a flimsy plastic cover, an Italian cult classic that’s dubbed in Spanish but subtitled in Cantonese (“Doesn’t matter since there’s more screaming than talking in it anyway,” Taemin shrugs), a Mexican something that looks like a cross between Chucky and an evil tooth fairy, and _An American Werewolf in London._

“Is this a dream?” Taemin jokes as they settle on Kibum’s couch to watch the last one and Kibum decides that just because it isn’t a full moon night, doesn’t mean he can’t take a few playful bites out of Taemin’s sniggering – but so lush, so willingly offered – mouth once the opening credits begin.

* * *

**Jongtae; date**

Jonghyun had always said that Taemin would be better at planning for dates; after all, Taeminnie was always out with his friends, instead of taking the lazy way out and ordering takeaway while entertaining them at home.

Jonghyun had been joking then – he’d also known he could count on Taemin taking him by surprise – except that his assumption had come to backfire on both of them; Taemin had done well with getting reservations for the classy new restaurant in town, only to realize he’d forgotten his wallet after he’d called for the check when they’d finished eating.

It was hardly anything bad to note; Jonghyun had happily paid for their meals and flung his arm around Taemin in a comforting gesture as they strolled out, and if Taemin’s still upset about things not going according to plan, Jonghyun can take his mind off of it later (after all, as he slyly reminds Taemin just to see him blush, entertaining at home is very much his thing).

* * *

**Jongyu; talons**

Jinki imagines that if he could be a fly on the wall, he’d be one right now in this very dressing room, right where he can see the new stylist noona place her hands on the gleaming skin of Jonghyun’s freshly scrubbed face and run her fingertips, greasy with mousse, through his hair.

Her nails are obviously the fake type, as are her eyelashes probably, and the rest of her hair piled into the bun perched on top of her head, and… Jinki stops himself; for as much as he could excuse these wild imaginings as protective ‘instincts’, he knows that it all boils down to him and his insecurities, and how none of it can ever make its way to Jonghyun.

“Jonghyun-ssi, turn to your right,” the stylist guides him in clipped tones as she tries to fix an earring that’s come loose, “You can keep looking at Jinki-ssi if that helps.” (and as Jonghyun’s fond gaze meets his, Jinki realizes he ought to be thanking her instead.)

* * *

**Onkey; baby**

Kibum has some dark days; days when he wonders when this country will catch up with the rest of the world and allow him the peace that comes with desiring the mundane.

But if he can’t build a family of his own the ‘normal’ way, then he supposes he’ll have to go about it his way; he and Jinki often refer to Commes des and Garcons as their ‘sons’ in the same manner that their own parents do with them, with familiar exasperation when they succeed in tipping over the jumbo pack of kibble onto the kitchen floor, with muted anxiety at the vet’s office as they wait for x-rays and shots to be performed, with nothing but love when things turn out all right in the end.

Despite everything, Kibum’s happy, and then comes the day when Jinki slides his laptop across the table so that he can look at the offer from the adoption agency, and then can’t help but let the tears fall when Jinki smiles softly and asks, “About time we had a daughter too, don’t you think?”

* * *

**Ontae; flight**

Both he and Taemin have had far too much coffee – starting with cold brew in their hotel room, continuing with the espresso shots at the breakfast buffet, and concluding with airport Starbucks – and it’s wreaking havoc on them in different ways.

A few trips to the washroom at the back of the plane later, Jinki considers himself calm and settled enough to possibly try sinking beneath his blanket in his seat, except that Taemin can’t sleep and has, therefore, decided to keep reminding Jinki of it at regular intervals; these come in the form of questions: _hyung, are you comfortable? Is the seat cushion too hard? Hyung, did you check out the movies? Which one have you already seen? You have?! When? Why didn’t you tell me?_

Later while waiting for their baggage at Arrivals, Kibum tells him he deserves a reward for not having hit the ‘eject’ button on Taemin’s annoying ass; looking at Taemin’s drowsy face, head propped on his shoulder, Jinki smiles and replies that some things – or people – are their own rewards.

* * *

**Onkey; risk**

There’s no greater risk than allowing chaos to reign in Kibum’s absence while he’s on vacation in Jeju; Jinki guesses he should’ve realized this sooner.

At least the dorm hasn’t burnt down yet, though Jonghyun has let the dishes accumulate in a staggering pile in the sink, Minho’s attempts at laundry have resulted in a broken washing-machine and a deluge which floods the kitchen and living-room, and Taemin has managed to take up and discard nine different hobbies, all of which are centered on an obscure children’s card game (the fact that it shares a name and various in-universe traditions with a known cult is still the least of Jinki’s concerns).

To Kibum’s credit, he only takes ten seconds to press his thumbs into the pressure points at the sides of his forehead on his return to the dorm – an understandable practice when it comes to dealing with SHINee, in Jinki’s opinion – before taking charge of instructing everyone on how to clean up the mess; later, Jinki practically crawls to his bedside, pleading with him to never leave again (to which Kibum just smiles, instead of smirks, and tells Jinki to rest well).

* * *

**Jongkey; cringe**

After years of putting it off, Kibum succumbs to his mother’s demands and brings Jonghyun home for the holidays; although not before he returns by himself to his childhood bedroom and cleans it out thoroughly, throwing out anything that reminded him of who he’d been before that fateful SM audition.

The day finally comes and Jonghyun has remained weirdly calm at being driven all the way to Daegu, being formally introduced to Kibum’s extended family, and then – to Kibum’s mortification – being subject to a complete investigation by the oldest (and nosiest) of his aunts; suffice to say, Kibum’s more than relieved to finally be given the opportunity to whisk him away to the relative safety of his old bedroom.

Except that there it is, the fucking Westlife poster he’d somehow – fucking inexplicably – forgotten to take down; next to him, he feels Jonghyun shake with laughter and then, before Kibum can even properly turn to fully appreciate the sight, the warmth in that familiar smile has already reached him, anchoring him as they both collapse onto the bed in a heap of relieved giggles.

* * *

**Jongtae; ice cream**

At some point, Taemin thinks he’ll have to take a stand on some very important aspects in his and Jonghyun’s relationship; the chief of which has to be that ice cream should _never_ be eaten like _that_ in public.

It’s a cheap vanilla cone from McDonald’s and a part of Taemin finds it laudable that something so innocent could be rendered in the way that it does on Jonghyun’s tongue, the tip of which is pink as the flesh of a not-ripe-enough strawberry (except that, as Taemin’s painfully aware of, it tastes better); he tries and fails to look away as the treat rapidly disappears in eager little laps and bites into the rim of the cone.

But for as much as Taemin attempts not to stare, he just _knows_ that Jonghyun _knows_ he’s got him hooked; as bad as it is now, there won’t be any respite when Jonghyun catches him alone later.

* * *

**Minkey; hospital**

The slope was marked for ‘Intermediate’ skiers, which seemed to indicate that he and Kibum had a good chance of taking it on with their combined level of expertise, and it had been going well, what with sheer beginner’s luck on Kibum’s side as he overtook Minho on the first bend; Minho couldn’t afford to let him get away with that, so he’d pressed on and on, angling his body to get his balance right, until he and Kibum were neck-and-neck…

And then the tree had appeared; depending on who was asked, Minho had either panicked or made a concentrated attempt at avoiding it, which either resulted in an epic fail of massive proportions or a marvelously executed series of tumbles, both of which culminated in the new cast plastered on the entirety of Minho’s left foot and the new scowl taking up most of his face.

Kibum doesn’t say much as he helps Minho hobble on his crutches on the way back to their cabin and then into the bed they were supposed to share for the rest of their honeymoon; except for much later at night, when the log fire is alive and blazing, as is the heat in his eyes when he straddles Minho’s lap and makes sure to grind down hard enough for emphasis (“I’m giving you your consolation prize so that you’ll stop complaining. Now shut up and kiss me, you adorable idiot.”).

* * *

**Minkey; salesman**

Kibum doesn’t know what he’s in for when the rumors about the hot salesman going around the neighborhood reach his ears; he does know that he intends to greet said salesman like all the others, with a polite smile and a closed door in their face.

Until, one fine summer day, the doorbell rings and Kibum opens it – smile already fixed in place – while expecting to have it closed in a matter of seconds, but oh, it’s already too late and the stud on his doorstep is introducing himself as ‘Choi Minho from SM Enterprises’, and Kibum loses track of everything after that; it’s a blazing hot day, so it’s only polite to invite Minho inside for a refreshing glass of lemonade and in return, accept a bargain on a portable pearl aqua fan (or three).

Minho becomes part of a weekly routine – not including the times that Kibum ‘coincidentally’ runs into him on his neighbors’ lawns – and Kibum accumulates seven coin purses of varying sizes, three desk calendars, five notebooks with a diamond insignia on the cover and seven key-chains with the same diamond inscribed on pearl aqua enamel; for his troubles, Minho always leaves behind a winning grin and eventually, his number.

* * *

**2min; neck**

In spite of his track record, Taemin has a fear of losing things; it’s the things that he can’t keep attached to his pockets with a clip that worry him the most.

Like, for instance, the way Minho’s touch feels on the back of his neck, right where the broad collar of an old t-shirt would dip, or around his shoulders where Minho’s arm wraps around him; they’d just begun to get to the good part of experimenting – brushing lips where fingertips would once go – when enlistment had begun to loom large.

During this particular day of leave that Minho has, Taemin wonders if it’s something he’s said that makes Minho dig a little further beneath his skin, leaving teeth marks that seem to blossom under the late afternoon light in his bedroom; “Just trying to make things last longer,” is all Minho says as he presses his mouth into the crook of Taemin’s neck again.

* * *

**Onkey; line**

Every once in a while, Kibum steps back from his artwork and reexamines each of them with a critical eye; sometimes the shadows are disjointed, other times, it’s the coloring and shading that’s off, too contrasting in an attempt to stand out.

When it comes to his personal portfolio – the one he keeps in an old sketchbook, stashed underneath his mattress – there are too many lines; it speaks to several attempts at trying to get the basic sketch right, the outlines which were supposed to form the base of his proposed masterpieces, anthems for songs in his head that he would never be able to compose or even get on paper in a line of a title track.

He’d been seventeen when he’d first tried to draw Onew and it was easier then than it was to try drawing Lee Jinki now, more than ten years on; he thinks he’ll give up one day, burn the whole damn thing and give up on trying to draw anything more out of him, someday (or he could just as easily start over, leaning more into the easy softness that lent itself more to Jinki, and as much as this idea discomforts Kibum, it already sounds better in his head).

* * *

**2min; party**

While Taemin has gotten better at socializing over the past few years, Minho’s learnt to spot a true introvert when he sees one; he can already read Taemin’s tell-tale signs of boredom at the company gathering.

When Taemin fails at stifling a yawn for the third time he’s counted, Minho slips an arm around his waist and tells him, “Let’s get out of here,” before they sneak past the groups formed by their colleagues and managers, down the hallways and then out one of the side-doors into the parking lot, where they get into Minho’s car; and then, it’s a long aimless drive through Seoul, through the rest of the night, with the windows rolled down and the songs on the radio carrying out into the breeze they leave in their wake, and then… and then…

“Now what,” Taemin doesn’t ask as much as implies and Minho thinks that would have been a good question if he’d had an answer, but “It’s just our party for now” feels like a good response; and when Taemin reaches for him in the dark as they come to a halt in the middle of nowhere – as far away as they’ve gotten – Minho willingly offers himself up.

* * *

**Onkey; petrichor**

Jinki smells rain on Kibum as soon as he walks in; despite the umbrella he carries, there are smatterings of wetness on his Alexander McQueen rain-jacket that glisten under the fluorescent lights in the narrow hallway. There’s a glow about Kibum too, one that belies his tiredness after work and lightens the dark circles under his eyes. 

He takes in more of Kibum, the way he shakes his head so that stray droplets scatter around, glinting as they catch the light, and the way he begins to smile when he hears his dogs barking; it’s a while before Jinki can bring himself to speak, “Go on and shower. The heater’s on. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

The pleased little noise that escapes Kibum stirs something warm deep inside Jinki and not long after the former has entered the bathroom to wash up, Jinki has two plates of grilled cheese and two bowls of tomato soup set up on two identical wooden trays in front of the sliding glass doors that would open into the garden once the storm clouds cleared; when Kibum steps out, warm and clean in a soft knitted robe, the smell of rain still lingers on his skin and remains for as long as he stays snuggled next to Jinki, as they watch the world settle into itself outside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Onkey; call**

Here’s the thing about delayed gratification: there’s no measure on how much one can miss a person, how deep the ache runs.

It’s already been a long day and there’s less than half an hour until it’s time for lights out at the hostel; Kibum’s still getting used to military timings, despite years of experience with 4AM wake-up calls, but he knows he can’t rest until he gets this one treat he can currently afford himself.

Jinki’s phone rings four times before the line gets cut, so Kibum tries again and again, as the time on his screen shows five minutes wasted, then ten, and he has to fight down the new dark mood building up in his head until finally, an all-too-familiar – but no less sorely missed – ‘Hello?’ (and Kibum will never admit out loud that he needs him this much, though judging by the way Jinki’s tone doesn’t shift a pitch below fondness, there’s nothing that needs explaining between just the two of them).

* * *

**2min; reincarnation**

There’s a nudge to his side and Minho immediately wakes up to the neon white numbers of his alarm clock – ‘4:48’ – alongside Taemin’s breath in his ear.

“Bad dream,” is enough of a reason to get both of them up and in the kitchen, where Minho, half-awake, goes through the process of making coffee on autopilot; he’s growing used to these semi-regular interruptions to his sleep, brought on by Taemin’s ‘relapses’ (a term he insists on substituting with anything better he can think of when he’s fully awake; he would have to remind Taemin again that those resurfacing memories were as natural as each dawning day).

“Was it about me?” Minho asks regardless and when Taemin pauses for a few long, tense seconds, Minho puts down his mug and places his arms around him as they wait for the sun to rise, to shed light on another day in this brand new life that still had them entwined.

* * *

**Minkey; office set-up**

Kibum understands where Minho’s complaints are coming from: it’s been almost two months of international touring, to which endless rehearsals and press calls have been attached, followed by recording for the new album, all of which has left them with little to no time for themselves, let alone each other.

But still, the lamp Kibum had purchased for his new home-office had cost enough to justify glaring at Minho’s irritating ass as it brushed dangerously close to tipping it off the new desk he was perched on; it doesn’t help that Minho doesn’t do anything else but just _sit_ there with a stubborn look on his face, hands clasped over his knees which are spread far enough apart that Kibum has to wrestle with his imagination.

“My God, you’re the worst,” He groans as he makes his way over, three strides until he’s flush in-between Minho’s legs to catch him off-guard and bending him over the shiny laminated oakwood. “Just so you know, you’re cleaning this up later.”

* * *

**Jongyu; kleptomania**

Sometimes, all he wants is Jinki’s arms around him, and if he can’t have that, then his shirts will do just fine.

These are snug around Jonghyun’s shoulders while the sleeve-cuffs fall just over his wrists, but it feels strangely soothing this way, as if he were really enveloped in Jinki’s embrace and sometimes at night, it’s enough to tide him over when the right side of their bed is empty; and when Jonghyun feels really starved for affection, he lifts up the collar and inhales (it’s mostly detergent and fabric softener, but beneath is a trace of warmth, a smile he loves, the crook of a neck he’s marked several times over).

When Jinki’s finally back home, he’ll notice how some of his clothes hang just a bit more awkwardly in his closet – as if they were shoved inside with haste – and he’ll not know entirely, but still know that he’s been missed, and once the lights are out, he’ll reach out for Jonghyun again to remind him of the real thing.

* * *

**Ontae; Mars**

It’s high time that they got a few hours alone together and even if it’s close to midnight, the planetarium is open until three and Jinki’s already bought both their tickets.

It’s not quite the beach in Jeju, but Taemin’s smile stills lights up the dark coolness and even as far as he wanders from Jinki, he always makes his way back to him, to take his hand and lead him to the next exhibit; Jinki already knows all the facts – he’s been here several times, alone as well as with his parents as a child – but hearing them spill over from Taemin in a burst of excitement feels like a new experience each time.

“So that’s why they’re called ‘Martians’,” Taemin explains, blissfully unaware that Jinki’s been in on the joke for years, “Because they’re from ‘Mars’!” (and there’s nothing Jinki will – or can – do that will take this moment away from them.)

* * *

**Jongyu; harmony**

Before dawn breaks, they run away into the last few hours of the night; in Jinki’s car, it doesn’t take long to get far out of Seoul and idol life.

It won’t be fine forever – they’ll have to get back with an explanation for their disappearance at some point – but it will be good for now; this much, Jinki wants to come true, as much as he wants to indulge in being selfish for a change and keep Jonghyun all to himself for a while (while another, more anxious, part of him wonders if laying his soul bare like this will make going back to what they’d been used to all the more difficult).

His hands shake when Jonghyun takes them; they’re in a one-bedroom cabin, surrounded by nothing but trees, sky and early morning birdsong, and for once, everything feels whole and everything makes sense (and nothing needs an explanation when Jonghyun’s the one who leads this particular duet, moving far over the wrecking line that borders Jinki’s fears and settling them both within the confines of each other’s embrace, safe at last).

* * *

**Minkey; scent**

Minho will often admit that he senses Kibum before he sees him; he will either hear the clipped footfalls that match his gait or hear the low rumble of his voice as he talks to a friend on the phone while walking into a room.

Then there’s the scents: Kibum always smells good, whether it’s the clear crisp cologne with the citrus top-notes he wears to all of their concerts, the subtle berries in the deodorant that Minho picks up whenever he moves close enough to him during choreo walkthroughs, the aroma of fresh herbs that clings to his clothes whenever Kibum tries a new recipe, or even the freshness of Kibum’s freshly washed skin after a shower.

And then there’s Kibum himself, the essence of him that lingers on Minho’s skin after a round of lovemaking in the morning, that which stays with him long after they’re done, long into the day when he has nothing else to look forward to except when Kibum drops by again tonight.

* * *

**Onho; onthighs**

There’s something to be said about Jinki’s legs, but while Minho thinks they don’t get enough attention as they should, he’s secretly aware of the distinct satisfaction that comes with being the only one privy to such a sight.

Of course, Minho doesn’t count the times they’re out in public and the paparazzi snap photos of Jinki in shorts, thighs bared for the world to see; he alone knows what it’s like to run his hands down their smooth planes and feel the slightest quiver that runs through Jinki when he does, he knows just how soft and sensitive the patches of skin that line his inner thighs are.

He could remind Jinki of this in words, except that it’s better conveyed from his mouth onto his skin, when Minho has him spread out on the bed in their hotel-room and his head between those legs, and he knows Jinki gets the point the moment his hand grips Minho’s hair and cries out in sweet relief as he spills into Minho’s mouth.

* * *

**Ontae; food**

In the gaps between Jinki’s leave days from the military, Taemin takes it upon himself to try to pick up some basic cooking skills – since, as Kibum constantly reminds him, mixing cocktails doesn’t count – because if there’s anything Jinki loves almost as much as him and singing, it’s food.

However, judging from the endless stream of laughing and puking gifs sent in response to the pictures he’d posted in the group chat, Taemin isn’t surprised that Jinki walks right into his kitchen the moment he’s discharged from active duty and puts on his apron; the drawstrings are tied tight around his slim waist and Taemin can’t resist sliding in behind him to settle his hands there, resting his head on Jinki’s shoulder.

“You’ll make a great housewife someday,” Taemin murmurs into the warmth of Jinki’s shirt as they stand in front of the bubbling pot of stew on the stove and, if Jinki’s chuckle is anything to go by, there’s no disagreeing there.

* * *

**Minkey; gym**

SM’s put in a decent portion of their earnings into enhancing the current state of the in-house gym; this includes the new juice bar, weights, treadmills and cross-training machines, none of which Kibum pays much attention to.

On the other hand, the new improvements bring a huge stupid grin to Minho’s face, which is – Kibum begrudgingly admits – a major plus; during the entire time the gym had been closed, he’d taken Minho out waterskiing and surfing, both of which had resulted in a number of wipe-outs – all to be blamed on the weather, in Minho’s opinion – and a corresponding amount of arguments on the drive back to the dorm.

But now that Minho’s back in his groove in his old, but new and improved, environment, Kibum figures he has a reason to devote countless hours running on the treadmill while his friend (with a few benefits) jumps right back into his strength training routine; after all, Minho’s going to need that extra stamina for when they’re alone again, in Kibum’s bedroom, when the lights are dimmed and the mattress primed for yet another round of a very different kind of work-out.

* * *

**2min; confusion**

Facetime is heaven-sent, Taemin concludes (though this isn’t something he supposes he ought to be comparing, Catholic guilt notwithstanding).

He’s already spent enough time on his phone as it is, thanks to online searches ranging from ‘butterflies in stomach why’ to ‘forehead kiss meaning’, and on _Cosmopolitan_ articles which contained a wealth of information on ‘how to make the first move’; these details and more immediately fade into the ether as soon as Minho’s beaming face appears on his iPhone screen.

If Taemin’s been looking for a divine sign, for the slightest thing he could sift from Minho’s past hugs and sweet words, this is it; Minho doesn’t have to say it out loud for Taemin because he already knows (though he does say it anyway and Taemin can’t think of anything else but to repeat it right back, overflowing with joy as they both know they mean every word).

* * *

**Jongyu; bodyguard au**

There’s going to be a day when they’re going to have to talk about this, as if it weren’t already weighing enough between them.

Jonghyun looks at Jinki and thinks of all the places they’d been alone in, all the plans that crumbled away as the future took on more possibilities; he looks at Jinki and dares to dream farther, where they can move about freely without the constant buzz of the press tracking his every move, a future where he can take Jinki’s hand and be the one to lead him into a home of their own.

As if sensing what went on in his mind, Jinki gives him a small smile and reaches out to brush some loose strands of hair from Jonghyun’s forehead (the same way he’d reach to tug him to safety from a crowd of reporters or to flick a stray lash from below his eye), telling him that it would be all right in the end; Jonghyun takes this as a sign to lean in closer to Jinki as he walks him back to his hotel-room, knowing that he won’t let go long after they’ve shut the door behind them. 


End file.
